


Athazagoraphobia

by hito_ritabi



Series: NTN [17]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hito_ritabi/pseuds/hito_ritabi
Summary: Will's recalling a time when he was very little speaking to his mother that gave him permission to be an introvert. It spurned in him a case of athazagoraphobia.May or may not be included in the final story. A little idea. Also just a fun excuse to add this word to my vocabulary haha!





	Athazagoraphobia

Will stood there baffled, watching the phantasm of himself running down the hall. He was a little boy, with a rose pink hue to his entire coloring. As the little boy form of himself pressed onwards with each step, Will felt his connection to his own twenty-two year-old self disappearing. He was becoming more and more the age of four.

  
  
"Mommy!" his young voice shouted.

  
Will's gut felt tight. His throat was closing up. His hands felt sweaty and hot. He was on the verge of passing out.

  
The young Will ran to an open door down the hall. Will's mother stepped through and knelt down, until Will ran between her knees at her dress and hugged his little arms around her shoulders.

  
"Mommy!" He cried again, soft little sobs coming from his throat. "Rhee-Rhee said that -- he said that --"  
  


"Calm down, precious." Lae`ri soothed him gently, hugging him as she lifted him up as she stood up. "What's gotten you so worried?"

  
"Rhee-Rhee said one day I'll be a four got ten ten!"

  
Chuckling, she turned and carried Will into the drawing room she'd been in. She stepped over to the sofa and sat down with him on her lap, never releasing him from her warm and loving hug. "Now, that's not true!"

  
  
"Re-really?" He asked, blinking tears from his eyes as he stared at her, wondering what she could possibly mean.

  
  
"Really." She nodded to him. She brushed her left hand through the hair at the back of his head as she spoke. "Now, Will dear, I want you to always believe in this simple fact. If you don't believe in it, the magic won't work."

  
  
"'kay...?"

  
"For you see, everyone you ever meet - no matter how little you talk to them - will take part of you with them. They'll be changed by meeting you. And you, them."

  
"What happens when I run out of me? Will I just be them?"

  
"Sort of." She nodded once more and kissed his brow. "We're made up of connections. All the people we've ever met make us who we are."

  
"But I don't want to talk to people."

  
"You don't have to. A simple hello or nod of your head is all that's needed for a connection to be made." Lae`ri clarified very sweetly. "You could meet no one else except for knights and servants and nobles. The very few people you need to meet. But they'll always remember you - so long as you believe in the magic."

  
"In the magic... So I won't ever be forgotten?" He asked, his voice dropping softer. He really didn't like talking to people he didn't know, which was everyone.

  
"Never. Share your heart with everyone you meet and you will change them."

  
"'kay... I can do that. I think."

  
"I know you can, my sweet." She smiled lovingly. "Now, no more talk about being afraid you'll be forgotten. I'll always remember you, and so will Rhys, and your father, and anyone else you've met."

  
/That was it./ Will thought as he realized he was in a black abyss. He'd fallen over and passed out as soon as the conversation started, prompting him to relive the memory raw. /That day I became forever afraid of being forgotten. As long as I believed in the magic spell my mother cast, I'd be remembered. I could continue to not talk to people, be withdrawn -- it didn't matter because just quietly nodding to them, making eye-contact -- that was all it'd take for her enchanting spell. I'd be remembered./

  
Groaning in his sleep, Will rolled over until he opened his eyes. He was laying on the cool wood on his side. Above him stood someone fanning him with a thin oval of paper on a delicate piece of wood, back and forth, gently.

  
/What's that called? The fear of being forgotten? I must have it really badly./


End file.
